


in the face of certain death

by katebishoop



Series: tumblr prompts [16]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Amusement Parks, F/M, Fluff, Roller Coasters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-27
Updated: 2016-04-27
Packaged: 2018-06-04 19:22:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6672382
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katebishoop/pseuds/katebishoop
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clarke gets Bellamy to go on a roller coaster despite the fact that he's <i>terrified</i> of them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	in the face of certain death

**Author's Note:**

> **anonymous asked:** 3\. bellarke. modern au.
> 
>  **3:** I love you + scream

“Bellamy - you’re going to be _fine_.” Clarke says, running her hands up and down his arms. 

“The rides called  _Apocalypse_ , Clarke,” Bellamy says insistently, “how is that  _safe_?”

Clarke sighs heavily, and drags him along as the line was moving. It wasn’t Bellamy’s first time at a theme park - but it was his first time with Clarke, and when she found out he has never been on a roller coaster before.

There were few things that Bellamy Blake was afraid of. He was afraid of his sister getting hurt, or of losing someone he loved, and small spaces - feeling trapped.

But thrill rides? That was unexpected.

He’s practically shaking, he’s so nervous - but Clarke knows he’s okay. If he truly didn’t want to do this, he’d say so. 

Bellamy was also a person who faced his fears - even as he protests about it.

"I changed my mind.” Bellamy tugs on the safety bars, his knuckles stretched tight and white over them. “Oh fuck – I want to get off this was a mistake-“

Clarke reaches out and places her hand on top of his closest one. Bellamy’s immediately latches his hand to hers, and she can feel how terrified he is from his death grip. She suddenly feels bad about forcing him on the ride, but.

It’s too late to really do anything about it now. She rubs her thumb in small circles on the back of his hand as they begin their ascent; the uniform metal _click click click_ of the track a stark contrast to his erratic breathing.

“Oh God oh God oh God.” Bellamy’s rocking back and forth in his seat.

Clarke cranes her neck out so that she can see his face. His eyes are scrunched tight. “Bellamy, you can do this. Just breathe with me-“

Bellamy’s eyes snap open, frantically going from her face to the ground below and the imposing sun above them. “We’re going to die.”

“ _Bellamy_.”

“We are going to _die_.”

They’re approaching the top, and Clarke’s been on this ride enough times to know what comes next, so she leans back and braces her head against the seat.

Bellamy’s repeating the words over and over again: _“we’re going to die we’re going to die we’re going to die-“_

They’re in the second row, so when they get to the top, there’s that moment when the rest of the cars have to catch up, and they slowly tilt forward, gravity doing it’s job.

Bellamy adjusts his grip on Clarke’s hand – all the sweat making it difficult. “Clarke, we’re about to die, so I just want to let you know that-“

And then they fall forward, a drop so steep they are almost upside down and-

Bellamy finishes his sentence with a scream, ripping all of the air out of his lungs with it: _“I LOVE YOU-!”_

And then all the air leaves hers. It’s a fifty-five mile an hour whirlwind, loops and twist and turns. She can’t feel her fingers anymore, and Bellamy’s screams are loud, ringing right in her ear. The ride two minutes of overstimulation and thrills and Clarke is like a stone the entire time. She’s usually got her arms in the air, a joy filled shriek bursting from her lips-

But Bellamy’s managed to take her breath away, and no roller coaster has ever done that before.

The ride comes to a halt, but Bellamy doesn’t let go until the car has come to a complete stop, the sound of the safety bars and seat belts being released.

Bellamy’s moving faster than the coaster to lift the bar off and get out of his seatbelt. He even undoes hers, because she’s still trying to process what he said in her scrambled mind, wondering if he even said what she think she heard.

Bellamy grabs her hand again, and tugs her along. He practically runs down the ramp away from the ride, her trailing behind, barely keeping on her own two feet as she struggles to keep up.

Bellamy comes to an abrupt halt when they’re far away enough from the ride, and she slams into his chest.

He pulls her back, and before she can even open her mouth to speak, he’s pulling her back in and pressing his lips against hers.

It’s deep and desperate and messy, and Clarke fucking melts into him. And all too soon does he pull back, because they both need to catch their breath. He keeps his hands on either side of her face, rubbing circles into her cheeks, their foreheads touching.

She looks up at him with wide eyes, his eyes are closed.

“I told myself,” Bellamy says through heavy pants, “that if I survived, I’d do that.”

Clarke hadn’t even realized that her hands were twisted in his shirt, but they were, pulling him closer, back down to her mouth.

It’s steadier this time, but just as intense. She’s dreamed of this – of his lips, of _him_. But it’s always been a dream.

“Did you-”Clarke says between kisses, “-mean what you-“

“Yeah,” Bellamy breathes out, his tongue running along the seam of her lips. “I’m in love with you, Clarke. Why do you think I even went on that fucking _nightmare?_ ”

She wants to deep the kiss; she wants to taste his tongue in her mouth. But she pulls back, because she wants to look at him too. His chest is still rising and falling heavily – he’s still easing off the adrenaline, off the fight or flight response that the ride had caused. His hair is even more of mess that usually, wild and curly and sticking up in a million directions. His freckled cheeks are flushed, and he looks more indignant than anything. Like, how dare she not figure it out, like the reason was so _obvious_. Maybe it had been, but Clarke has always been hopelessly blind when it comes to these things.

A huge grin spreads across Clarke’s face, and a little laugh escapes her lips. “For the record, I love you too.”

“Good,” Bellamy says, and she can hear the sheer joy behind his breathlessness. One of his hands slides back so he could run his fingers through her windswept, tangled hair. “Because that means you’ll never make me do that again, right?”

“Hmmm, I don’t know.” Clarke rocks back and forth on the balls of her feet. “You survived the _Apocalypse_ ; I think you can handle anything now.”

Bellamy huffs, and it’s adorable. “I _hate_ you.”

“You love me.” Clarke says, and the words taste as good as he does on her mouth.

Bellamy’s smile is bigger than the sun. “Yeah, I do.”

**Author's Note:**

> come hang out over on [tumblr](http://bellakeyblake.tumblr.com)!


End file.
